


Come Softly, Darling

by ava_jamison



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU
Genre: F/M, Gen, Golden Age, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-17
Updated: 2010-12-17
Packaged: 2017-10-15 21:00:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/164892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ava_jamison/pseuds/ava_jamison
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Golden Age Bruce and Selina, 1940s, just starting to get to know each other. For this one, I'm going with Selina's origin in which she was raised at least partly in a children's home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come Softly, Darling

Four days before Christmas, a smooth white sheet of snow blanketed the streets and rooftops of Gotham, reflecting the downtown Christmas lights in the early evening dusk. Happy Christmas shoppers pushed their way past crowded department stores, and past Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson, who paused in front of Gimbel’s, halfway to the Tenth Street address that was their goal.

“Gosh Bruce, isn’t the place this way?” Dick said, tugging on Bruce’s coat sleeve.

“Just pausing to watch the shoppers,” Bruce said, taking a long look at the people passing holiday decorations and lights, listening to scraps of Christmas music spilling out from store doorways. “Let’s take the long way around the block.”

“Hey, can I give that Santa some change?” Dick asked, motioning toward a Salvation Army Santa ringing his bell.

“Sure, Dick.” Bruce smiled, waiting while Dick’s red-mittened hand dropped quarters in the man’s bucket. He was checking his watch when Dick ran back, dodging the other people streaming past them.

“ ‘Fraid you’re going to be late?”

“Not quite, chum.” Bruce straightened the collar of his coat. “Afraid I might be early.”

“Huh,” Dick said, in that way that meant he didn’t always get adults. “Let’s go see if she’s ready yet, okay?”

Bruce nodded and they rounded a corner and… there she was. She had on an adorable hat and a smart green wool coat with big black buttons and her cheeks were pink from the cold as she waited in front of the little pet shop.

“Selina,” he said, tipping his hat. “So glad you could make it this evening.”

“But of course, Bruce.” She smiled, taking the arm he offered. “And hello, Dick.”

“Hi, Miss Kyle.”

They made awkward small talk, taking in the Christmas lights and sounds of the holiday. Gotham’s streetlamps and trees were strung with twinkling lights, glittered candy canes and ribbons and bells in the colors of stained glass. The evening darkened as they walked, and everything around them seemed to slow down into something smooth and perfect, citizens taking in the holiday and the sight of their city both at the same time, for once, festive and busy yet somehow peaceful.

The fastest thing around them was Dick’s bobbing head, as he practically bounced all the way to the skating rink.

As they walked, arm in arm, Selina talked about her day, Bruce about his, and one of them joked that the holidays seemed to come faster every year. It must have been Selina who said it, because Bruce found himself saying that he’d not really noticed that, not until he’d gotten Dick, until Dick had become part of his life, and she’d nodded. “Kids,” she’d said, and Dick had stopped long enough to hear her, because he volunteered that he and Bruce had delivered presents to the orphanage on their way to see her tonight.

Bruce felt himself flushing a little and resolved to talk with Dick later about reticence and modesty as they applied to charity, but she’d beamed, smiling a small, kind of secret smile, her lovely eyes bright and pleased. And suddenly Bruce was just glad he’d been able to make her smile like that.

He paid their admission, three dimes, and soon Dick was off, getting his skates on the fastest. “Hey, I see Danny Jackson from school, Bruce. And Buddy Holcomb. Can I—”

“Of course, Dick. Go and see your friends.” Bruce looked up from lacing his own skates when he heard a snap.

“Oh no,” Selina said. “I’ll have to get a new set, I suppose.”

“No, it’s alright.” Bruce knelt in front of where she sat on the little wooden bench. “I’ve got it.” He fished the broken lace from her skate and retied it. “There, good as new.”

“Thank you, Bruce.”

A Christmas carol was playing as they stepped onto the rink. God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen, it sounded like. “How good a skater are you?” Selina asked.

“Passable,” Bruce allowed, smiling as he took her arm. “You?”

“I love it,” she said. “It’s like dancing on ice.”

They were a little clumsy together, though, at first. Or maybe it was just a little nerve-wracking, though pleasant—very, very pleasant, to have her body pressed so neatly against his. He breathed deeply, however, and pulled her snug against him. “For better balance,” he said softly, but the smile she gave him made him know she knew the truth.

Other skaters were on the ice, but they were in their own little sphere, not aware of anyone but each other. Their bodies fit together perfectly, side by side, his arm around her waist, her side pressed to his, and he got bolder in what he decided they should try together. “A turn?” he said, swinging her around, and she laughed, mirroring his movements, turning to compliment his shifts and smooth, gliding steps.

A strand of her dark hair brushed his face, soft and beautiful and smelling of jasmine. “How long have you skated?” he asked, just to watch her lips form more words, to feel her body purr against his as she spoke.

“Years,” she said.

“Gotham?”

“Yes, but not this place,” Selina said, looking around at the strings of lights. “They took us every winter.”

“They?” he said, and wanted to take back that single word as soon as he saw her face. Her expression dropped a little, like she'd given something away, and she'd not wanted to give it. She smiled, but it was a different kind of smile, touched by sadness and all Bruce could feel was regret that he’d said whatever he’d said to make those beautiful eyes sad.

He pulled her into another slow turn, feeling the smooth, graceful way they flowed together and apart and together.

“What about you?” Selina asked.

“Me?”

“Yes, you,” she teased. "Have you skated here before?”

“I used to skate here,” he said. “My parents brought me every Christmas.”

"Oh," she said, sounding a little pained. "I'm sorry, Bruce."

"No, it's... it's fine."

Her eyes were sad again, sad and soft, and he realized they’d slowed their speed. She pulled her right hand out of the little gray muff she carried, reaching up to brush something off of his cheek. “It’s snowing.”

“So it is.” Bruce shook his head to clear the old memories, come back to this moment and this woman. To Dick, playing at the other end of the rink, skating and chasing his friends, just like he’d once skated and played. “So it is,” he said again, looking up at the clear, starry sky. “And it’s not even cloudy.”

She looked up too. “No, it’s a beautiful night.”

“Are you cold?”

“No, Bruce.”

“Stop for a moment, Selina.” They moved out of the way of traffic, over to the edge of the rink, and Bruce pulled the scarf from around his neck. “Here,” he said, wrapping her in it. “You look cold.”

“I’m fine, Bruce,” she said, but she made a kind of pleased noise anyway, watching her breath fog in the folds of the scarf at her chin. “It’s nice, though.”

He nodded, just once. “Shall we?”

“Yes.” She moved with him, placing her left hand on his left side, and they rejoined the flow of skaters, his right arm securely around her warm round hip, tucked against her waist.

“What about your left hand?” she asked, tilting her head to look up at him, green eyes sparkling. “Isn’t it cold?”

“I’m fine,” he said, but he let her reach for it; pull it into her little gray muff, where she clasped it in her own hand. If Dick saw this, he’d never hear the end of it, but right now… the warmth of her hand and her smile and her gaze were too wonderful to resist. He pulled her closer and breathed in the scent of her, happy to feel her body against his.


End file.
